The Edge of Light is held by Darkness. 




July 6, 2018 · 2:29 pm

The biggest waste of time


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Polished Arrow

You been saying –

“Why d’you turn away from me, d’you even know I’m here? Not a whisper in my direction. Our intense relationship seems to be one way God- I can even hear You breathe as if I were being carried in Your shoulder, but d’You even look at me ?”


black and white blue arrow sport

“…in the shadow of His Hand
has He hid me
and made me a polished arrow;
in His quiver has He kept me close
and concealed me.”
Is 49:2. REALLY?

Our human structures are visual/calculated. We are Time zoned, we make reports on productivity, we are skewed by flow charts and input/output ratios. Try telling someone you’re a Polished Arrow in Divine Quiver, waiting your moment. Actually, don’t. Don’t talk about it, but set aside 5 minutes to chew on it real slow.

Each of us  has that one thing we will do, or not do before we quit this planet. Yep, we are that one hidden arrow for us, that is no one else. Whether we believe that or not, we were born for specificity.


Image result for powerful words of astronaut

What secrets are stashed in the arms of those, who in perfect alignment with the process, can arrest his/her own desires, in the challenge of visibility compromised, in the loneliness of an extreme polishing?


What happens in the secret of such a place can sear logical absolutes;


accurate action adult aim

places where we trust, be still, go alone- hold our tongue, be tempered steel, be Gold- refined, enduring Fire while greater purpose is being taken a fine shot at. Killing.  Ach. Non comprehendi. God, what’s going on? Chances are, we’ll know soon enough.



Image result for powerful words of astronaut

… with all matters of the heart, you’ll know when you find it. Steve Jobs

Image result for polished arrow thoughts


Easy said, right.

While you wait Polished Arrow, rest in the knowledge that you and I are pieces of a Whole; these moments of our Lives are terrifically significant in ways that are perhaps beyond visual understanding,

stay Blest,

Verse day

Calendar verse for July 7





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My Fantastic Stalker

woman covering her face with corn leaves

Bright scarlet buds in grass, why am I staring ?

I’ve lived in fields and wave, e’en  mountain by the sea, off a river delta, an island, a town in a valley, but today I’m standing still

flower bloom blossom red purple

Today is different; 

there are things to do, promises to keep, miles to go as I sweep through lists of chores, but I’m Stalked 

by tender new leaf & bud –

Stalked by  God’s brand-new batch of new mercies 

blade of grass blur bright close up

Yeah tho’ I go thru’ the next 24 hours of work, love, laughter, sweat, tears, fears, crowds, hope, nail biting hope, 

I fear no evil; 

man s hand in shallow focus and grayscale photography

my Divine Stalker is with me, His messengers of Love –these darling scarlet Reminders reinforce the next words: you are not alone. Read that –

You are not alone.



Filed under Design, Faith, Fear, Friends, Healing, Hope, Inspirational, Journals, Joy, LIFE, Lonely, Personal Reflections, Real life, Reflections, Times, Writers

I said a prayer for you, July

That you and I would find Wings, that we would fly beyond the limitations of dreams and desire. That we could finally shut our eye wide, to human frailty, and breathe, as it were not ours to play gods, nor revert to being babes of wrath,


Vi’s pastel angel

Oh July, I prayed a prayer that you and I would leave our skin behind and fly out of cocoons we’ve refused to leave; that we would let the process hurt if it must, that we would not be suspicious of skies no matter how high it appears to the little iris in our eye

July, stretch me our Wing, this Thing on my ‘blades I’ve thought was shadows in my shoulder; fly me out 31 days every minute, flung wide with grace, reckless grace in the sapphire of heaven around us, that we might see with shut-less eyes, our Wings


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Walk tall, breathe deep


“Walk tall, breathe deep..” my dad would say. I miss his clear eyed humor, even to the end when the strength in his warm hands cooled: it was there, the reminder, to live as large as one could, with joy.

Last night we went out in the light drizzle, deep twilight and blackie our neighborhood friendly dog tagged along a bit till she tired of our pace. my kids were walking backwards… in the dark semi- busy lanes, they’re walking backwards. I hadn’t done that in years, and not this publicly, but who said you mustn’t change the way you walk now and then? I held on to Joh my visually challenged son, he’s the perfect friend to walk in the dark with – backwards too. He misses nothing, doesn’t care who is watching, he knows if there’s a stone ( mostly) in your pathway, he loves the tangle of elbow and arm, loves if you flip a bit – his laughter is contagious, his energy and zest for fun too much to handle, but you want some of it,

I needed that walk. I went back in time, hopping two steps to my father’s long stride, and now, my own feet unable to keep up with a ‘visually challenged’ young one –

walk tall, breathe deep they don’t need to be told. A sudden glow worm zings across, the girls don’t believe me.

“No one sees a glow worm here, Ma” My second daughter’s laughter is genuine. Her older sis believes me though. We’re believers in glow worms. They are signs from heaven –  signs of what I’m unsure. Of things we are unaware of ? Things with no proper names for –  even perhaps the way you feel when you walk deep, breathe tall.






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In His Time


reblogged gcdiaries thank you

You know that moment when you’re just minding your own business- suddenly you get a phone call or e-mail that the opportunity you’ve been waiting for has finally come through? Or that split second when you’re bolted over with an idea or inspiration that stops you dead in your tracks? There is nothing more exhilarating than these magical instances when everything you’ve ever done and all of your experiences and abilities meld together in one epiphany and you just know, on a molecular level that your life will never be the same again! And you smile.😊

God moves in His timing, not yours. He is never late, but He is usually not early either. He is often the God of the midnight hour. He sometimes waits until the last second before He gives you what you need. Before He intervenes on your behalf, He had to be sure you are not going to take matters into your own hands and do something out of his Perfect timing.

Be prepared to celebrate. Concentrate on that goal of yours. Never stop from pursuing it. Give it all your best. Put your faith to bear. God is ready to break protocols on your behalf. Get ready! Let your focus be on God. Do not be distracted by the opinion of people, be moved by your intuition.

The time for you to blossom is here. You are graced for it. #winning. Go for it! God bless.💕Blessings and Love…😊


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June 28, 2018 · 8:04 am

Blue water art ?

Never seen anything like this, had to share.

“So they make the perfect love nests for lady love, but she will just donate her eggs for him to continue parental duties” ( fact finder BBC), howeverrrrrr

do not eat this beauty

“Almost all species of puffer fish contain toxin (calledtetrodotoxin) that can be 1200 times stronger than cyanide. One puffer fish contains enough toxin to kill 30 adult men. Toxin is not located in all parts of the puffer fish, and certain cultures prepare puffer fish (meal calledfugu in Japan) as a delicacy.”

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‘The Hiding Place’

Image result for the hiding place book pdfThe first time I read Corrie Ten Boom’s “The Hiding Place”, it kind of healed me from the stark black and grey of Annie Frank’s Diary but it still takes me to an inner resort, a Hiding Place – a pre-requisite for any homo sapien, I’ll say 🙂

(If you’ve never read The Hiding Place, please, its a must-read : written by the daughter of a dutch clock maker who housed Jews during the war, he and his family paid the price for it, in Auschwitz and in a story that shames human pride, a saga of unimaginable forgiveness )-

Love is the strongest force in the world.

Two weeks ago, returning from a family wedding in heady mountain mist- the drive back was a short cut that snipped two extra hours of road travel, we got back in our familiar lane ten minutes from home, stopped to pick up some bread and eggs for breakfast the next day – two of us just stepped back in the car, when a twenty something strong gang of young men turned into our lane, in chase of another –

one of the pursuers brandished a hacking knife… what ever its called…

for a few screaming seconds, one of them ( 24 ? ) was in his back, on the road a few feet from us. They could’ve killed him if they wished, in a quarter second, they could have; instead they swung knife at his feet. he sprung away, got to where we were starting ready to drive back home. The boy touches our car in the  rush, his eyes wide, the face slack with terror.

Were they just teaching him a lesson ? We waited in the hush. All I could think was, this was a gang, it was a gang war of sorts, the boy was one of them. They looked like regular college kids, blue jeans and black Tees. Was it a dress rehearsal of a shoot, was it a prank… whatever it was looked serious, and then the normalcy. They disappeared as they had arrived. It was fast, terrifying and real. This was my road, with the florist and Bakery, Pharmacist and fav restaurant – our mini mall and Momo corner. A moderately quiet lane lined with Gulmohar tree, a business school and junk jewelers’ store. We walk here late evenings, there’s an up stair nursery that sells even curry leaf plants, across from book shop and fruit juice corner shop, the nicest seats overlooking Palotti church steeple somehow snuck up there above a suburb still green, still quiet among growing school kids and new cars. Now this. I make a mental note to keep away, stay closer home….

but where’s the safe place: is there one ? Nothing happened to us, or anyone in that moment, and yet it was visual assault enough to make one want to report the incident, make sure it didn’t happen again. All i wanted was to get home, get safe, forget the thing, not easy. The young man’s face keeps returning to me, his eyes wide, that long narrow face slack paralyzed with fear. What had he done ? Who was he ? Is he alive today ? Who were the others? They’re far from safe whoever they are not with that arm long hacking weapon that easily in their belongings. They were driven by rage, even vengeance for sure. It was a pack of them, all driven that strong!?

I was reminded of Ms Ten Boom and her book last evening as we  got home some steaming Momos. Revenge is sweet, they’ve always said, and it hurts like hell.


Do you know what hurts so very much? It’s love. Love is the strongest force in the world, and when it is blocked that means pain. There are two things we can do when this happens. We can kill that love so that it stops hurting. But then of course part of us dies, too. Or we can ask God to open up another route for that love to travel.

I like to think of a Hiding Place in the center of me, where I know exactly how wicked I can be, or someone else. Here I lean my core in the heart of God and tell Him every shred of evidence against myself or another,  I hide me here, among my stash of hurt, hate, disgust, fear, ill, guilt, rage… unforgiveness.
Modern Psychologists might call this self healing, nice !:) But here’s the thing for me – I keep looking for wounds but its as if even the scars have gone. And in the place of all my inventory, is a fresh stash of gratitude I never had in me in the first place.
Imagination is a very good thing, my psychology lecturer in college would say. He didn’t believe in any form of God, leave alone a Personality with semblance of arms legs and Words,
it works though,.. quells our own personal wars;
but for the grace of God I could’ve had a few weapons in my armory,just saying.
Hiding Place

Oil painting, Little Pond, RN


Do you know what hurts so very much? It’s love. Love is the strongest force in the world, and when it is blocked that means pain. There are two things we can do when this happens. We can kill that love so that it stops hurting. But then of course part of us dies, too. Or we can ask God to open up another route for that love to travel.


Image result for the hiding place

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A heartful of Summer


I came to you with Winter on my lips,

You gave me a Basketful of Summer

for my soul



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June 24, 2018 · 7:23 pm